Friends With Benefits
by Yahtzee
Summary: AU starting from "The Bahamas Triangle." When Matt chooses Amanda, Daniel and Betty realize they don't have to remain alone. But can they really handle being just 'friends with benefits,' or does it get more complicated than that? Warning: EXPLICIT.
1. Chapter 1

Betty and Daniel sat on the balcony of his Bahamas hotel suite, looking out on the beach as twilight turned the sea the color of cobalt. They'd had a couple of fruity umbrella drinks each, which Betty tried to blame, later on.

"Is it going to be hard for you?" Daniel said. "Seeing Matt and Amanda – you know, together. At the magazine."

"Kind of. Not as bad as I would have thought, though." Betty considered her answer carefully; the day had proved to be a revelation for her. "All this time, I wanted Matt back, but – I think it was more about undoing the fact that I hurt him than actually, you know, being with him again. He's a good guy – " She ignored the scoffing sound Daniel made. "I like Matt. I care about him. But I think it took him choosing Amanda for me to see that I'm actually not in love with him anymore."

"You can do better."

Which was the sort of nice, unrealistic thing friends said at moments like this. She appreciated Daniel's consideration, but honestly felt she didn't need it. "I can let it go, now. It feels good to let it go."

"I think this calls for champagne." Daniel stood, slightly unsteady. "There's some in the minibar."

Betty would normally have called it quits after a couple of drinks, but they were in the Bahamas, the shoot was done and she was – not newly single, but extra single, and it felt like a reason to celebrate. "Pop the cork already, would you?"

"I'm trying!" he called from the main room of the suite.

She walked in through the sheer white drapes that framed the balcony, which were blowing in the soft tropical breeze. His balcony was off the bedroom, so she had to walk around the wide, white expanse of his bed to join him in the small sitting room; this made her think briefly of the fact that Matt and Amanda were together – probably in bed right that moment – but although it stung, the pain wasn't anything she couldn't handle. Particularly not when she had such amusing company: As Betty watched Daniel struggling with the champagne bottle, a pun came to her, and she couldn't quite stifle it. "So – speaking of popping corks – how did Project 'Get Laid' go for you?"

Daniel gave her an open-mouthed smile of equal parts shock and delight. "I can't BELIEVE you said that."

Giggling, Betty managed to get out, "So, did you? Or didn't you?"

"If by 'did' you mean 'actually had sex,' I didn't. If you mean striking out – that I definitely did."

"You can't have tried very hard." She found a couple of glasses and got them ready, for whenever Daniel won his battle with the bottle. "You practically have to pry women off you, Daniel. There's no way you couldn't have found somebody here."

"Well – hmm. You want the honest answer? It's kind of personal."

"Yeah, let's start having boundaries NOW. That ship definitely hasn't sailed."

The champagne cork finally popped free, banging against the wall of the hotel suite. Foam bubbled over Daniel's fingers onto the woven mat on the floor. Quickly Betty knelt beside him, holding out the glasses to catch as much champagne as possible; within moments, he was pouring smoothly. Neither of them bothered to rise afterward. Instead Daniel leaned back against the cream-colored sofa, and Betty folded her legs beneath her to sit beside him.

Daniel took a deep swallow of his champagne before saying, "Not trying 'very hard' was sort of the problem."

"Huh?"

"I met this girl, Savannah. Gorgeous. Seemed nice, too. She came up here with me, but – how does the saying go?" His cheeks were actually slightly pink. "The spirit was willing, but the flesh was weak."

"Oh. OH." Poor Daniel. That always freaked guys out. "I guess it's a difficult step to take."

"After Molly died – I didn't even feel like it, for months." He said this as though it were the strangest thing that could possibly happen; in his world, it probably was. "But now, it's like all those months of doing without just hit me at once, and I'm kind of going crazy, but being with some girl I didn't even know … it felt wrong."

Daniel really had grown up, she thought, with a mixture of empathy and pride. Empty sex would never wholly satisfy him again. It was a lesson Betty had always hoped he'd learn, but she wished this wasn't the way he'd had to learn it. Gently she reached out to stroke his hair, right at the temple. "You'll find someone else who matters to you. Someone you can love."

"I know that. But tell it to my sex drive, would you?"

"Tell it to mine," she grumbled. "I'm starting to think half of why I wanted Matt back was – well. That."

"Say it, Betty. No boundaries, remember? You miss sex."

"Yes, okay? I miss sex. I miss it like crazy. In some ways I feel like – " Now, this WAS personal, but if she couldn't tell Daniel, whom could she ever tell? "Like I was only just learning what I really wanted. Like I was open to … so much more, but there's nobody to share it with."

A moment's silence followed, which was enough to make her aware that she and Daniel actually had a boundary there, one she'd just crashed right through.

"Sorry. Oversharing." She gulped down some champagne.

"No, it's okay." Daniel gave her a sidelong look, one eyebrow cocked, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. "You know – there's a very obvious answer to both our problems."

His meaning sank into her more slowly than it should have, probably because shock had turned her mind into so much white noise. "You don't mean – you DO."

He shrugged, still smiling.

"Daniel. You're not serious."

"Not entirely, no. I know you'd never go for it. But you WERE the one who said acting like a man-slut might be therapeutic for me."

Okay, he wasn't serious. That was a relief – mostly a relief, anyway. Her heart was still thumping wildly, though, as she joked back, "You think I'm the one who would never go for it?"

Daniel studied her for a few moments; though he never quit smiling, the smile changed from a smirk into something gentler. "Wait. You really might – you know – you and me? 'Friends with benefits' for a night?"

"That's not what I said."

"I think it kind of IS what you said." He put his champagne glass on the end table and leaned closer to her. "Now I'm not joking. Think about it, Betty – we'd have fun."

It was completely outrageous, the kind of thing Betty had never seriously contemplated with him or with anyone. And yet – there was Daniel, wearing that black linen shirt and looking sort of indecently handsome, with this genuine, hopeful look on his face, so close to her. This wasn't the same as casual sex with some stranger. She trusted Daniel. She adored him. He was lonely, and so was she, and why shouldn't they make each other less lonely for a while?

"It would be weird," she said. "Back at the office. Don't you think?"

"Wouldn't have to be. I mean, we both know what we're doing, right?" He sounded very sure, but of course, Daniel had more practice at this whole casual sex thing. Still, though, she couldn't see them being awkward or strange afterward; when Betty envisioned it, she actually saw them making various dirty puns and jokes afterward to crack each other up when nobody else was listening. She felt safe with him, too safe to be threatened by something like that.

But should he feel safe with her? Betty knew how badly she longed to be touched – and for a moment, the thought of Daniel's long hands touching her made her flush warm all over. But for her, she was sure, that was all it was: Sexual need and a bruised ego. Daniel was in a far more vulnerable place. Carefully, she asked, "Are you positive this is a good idea for you?"

Daniel shrugged – not casually, but what seemed to be an honest admission that he wasn't certain. "I know there's almost nobody else I feel closer to. I think we could handle it. I think it's really something we could do for each other, not just – you know, using bodies." He said that last with such distaste that it was as if he'd never done such a thing. "And besides – okay, this is going to sound corny – but here goes." Taking a deep breath, Daniel looked at her and said, "You're the most incredibly kind, gentle, GOOD person I've ever known, and I think it would be amazing to be that close to you."

Betty sat there for a moment, staring at him, until she couldn't resist a smile. "You are REALLY good at sweet-talking women. You know this, right?"

He had to laugh, but said, "I mean it. You know I do."

"I know."

Daniel tilted closer to her, so that their shoulders brushed against each other. Betty felt a little flip in her belly that she'd never sensed around him before. Even if her mind was confused, her body was certain this was a good idea. A GREAT idea. "I'd show you a nice time." His voice was teasing now, and she couldn't help remembering how one of his ex-girlfriends had told a tabloid he was "like riding a rocketship to the moon." … and now the word "riding" had somehow entered her thoughts of Daniel, who was now running one finger along her arm. "I'd take good care of you, Betty."

As ever, when she was uncertain, Betty decided to get more facts first. "I can't say yes without – without knowing what it's like to kiss you. I mean, what if we both crack up laughing? We might."

"We might. But I doubt it. Come here."

Daniel cradled the side of her face in one hand, but it was Betty who leaned closer and kissed him, their mouths slightly parted – just enough for her to taste champagne, and feel the tip of his tongue briefly brush hers. "Mmmm," he said into their kiss, drawing her nearer so that he was resting with his back against the sofa, and she was essentially resting upon his chest.

When they broke the kiss, Betty said, "Wow."

"Yeah."

"Definitely no laughing."

"You actually can't feel the braces," Daniel mused. "How come I didn't remember that from junior high?"

Betty swatted his arm, but the joke made her grin. "The beard's not bad either." He responded by drawing her in for another kiss – this one quick, more sweet than sexy, but hopeful, too.

It occurred to her that she and Daniel had already stepped over a certain line – after all, they were now sprawled on the floor of his hotel suite, starting to make out – and refusing to step any further seemed more perverse than wise.

Why shouldn't I? she thought, feeling the broad muscles of his chest beneath her hands. Why shouldn't we? We're grown-ups. We can handle it. And oh, God, do I want to.

"Okay," she said.

Daniel's expression brightened. "Okay? Okay as in yes?"

"Yes."

The rest of Daniel might have grown up, but his grin was still that of a delighted boy. "This is going to be fun."

They rose to their feet, slightly wobbly – but more from the sudden shock of arousal than from alcohol, she thought. Betty knew she wasn't too drunk to make this call, and that Daniel wasn't either. Yet as he took her hand, he held it to his chest, and he looked uneasy. "Are you sure?" she said. "Daniel, if you aren't, just say so."

"I'm sure. It's not that. It's just – " His blush told her what he was talking about even before he said it. "Listen, if I have, uh, technical difficulties again, you have to know it's not you. All right? I am so completely into this idea. But my body isn't necessarily cooperating with me right now."

Betty nodded, caressing his hand in both of hers. "I get it. I won't take it personally. We'll go into the bedroom, and – whatever happens, happens. If we just end up, I don't know, cuddling and making out .. that would still be fun."

Daniel gave her a look that made her feel weak in the limbs, warm in the belly. "I told you, no matter what, I'm going to take good care of you."

She liked how that sounded, so much that it almost dizzied her, but she tried to keep her head. "I just mean – no pressure. We're friends, we're going to have a good time, and that's all that matters."

"Okay."

Betty started backing toward his bedroom, drawing him after her. As soon as they were at the foot of his bed, Daniel pulled his shirt off over his head – oh, abs, amazing abs, and also amazing arms. She glanced at the multicolored dress she still wore and felt a quiver of insecurity. "Um, Daniel? Could we – maybe – well, turn out the lights?"

He looked down at his chest, and the fact that he somehow thought this was about his body, and not her own imperfections, seemed deeply endearing.

"You're beautiful," she said. "I'm just – a little shy."

Daniel flicked off the lights, but he put his arms around her and said, "You know you're beautiful too."

"Just kiss me."

His mouth found hers again; the touch was more intimate, more intense, in the dark. The insecurity melted away as Daniel's hands unzipped and pulled away her dress to caress her and guide her down to the bed with him. Her body wasn't like the girls he was used to, but either he hadn't noticed or he actually preferred the difference, because his kisses only became more fevered. Betty started to shrug off her black stretch lace bra, but Daniel's mouth found her breast, his kiss hot and wet even through the lace. He began sucking at her, massaging the rough lace against her nipple with his tongue. That felt – amazing. She heard her own soft whimper as if from a distance – nothing seemed as real as what Daniel was doing to her.

"You don't even know how beautiful you are," he murmured, his breath now cool against her breast. "Guess I'll have to show you."

Then he tugged the bra down and it turned out his kisses felt even better without the lace between her and his tongue.

Betty reached for the waistband of the white slacks he still wore, tugging at the fastenings; he pulled away just long enough to help her tug them away with his boxers. Then Daniel was naked atop her, and she had only her panties on, and everything seemed simultaneously to be happening incredibly fast and not nearly fast enough.

Daniel's lips met hers, and for a long few moments they just kissed. The warmth of his bare skin on hers made her need to be closer to him, so she wrapped her arms around him to feel the broad, well-muscled expanse of his back, brought her knees up enough so that she could cradle his thighs between hers. The long, firm pressure she could feel against her belly told her he wasn't experiencing any technical difficulties so far.

She reached down and wrapped her fingers around him, earning a groan from Daniel. Which was hot, very hot, and yet –

"Wait," Daniel murmured against the side of her face, between kisses at her hairline. "Are you – why are you grinning like that?"

"I was just thinking – " Betty gave him one playful stroke. "—it's a little like meeting someone famous."

He dropped his head against her shoulder, as if in dismay, but his shoulders started to shake with laughter. "Betty!"

"I can't help it! It is!"

"God, you're adorable." They kissed as best they could when they were both laughing. Then Daniel looked at her with almost wolfish enthusiasm. "Bet I can make you stop giggling."

"Bet you—" Her voice trailed off as he tugged her panties down and tossed them away. "Ohhh."

He slid down on the bed, hooked one of her legs over his shoulder, and then he was going down on her, and OH, DAMN, this was obviously where you boarded the rocketship to the moon. Betty clutched for the corners of the bed as she began to rock softly against him; Daniel found the rhythm immediately, matched it, intensified it. His tongue could sweep strongly against her, then stroke delicately just where she wanted, over and over again.

His fingers slid inside her, and his beard was soft against her inner thighs. Betty's breaths came light, fast and shallow, and she didn't want to come because this was so good she wanted it to last forever, but she wanted to come even worse. He was pulling it out of her, beyond her ability to hold back.

Betty clutched his hand against her hip as the sensation broke over her, rushing up through her body to the very top of her head. She sagged back onto the bed, dazed and delighted; Daniel kissed his way up her belly, her breasts and her neck until their lips met again. He tasted like sex.

"Good?" he murmured against her cheek.

"That was – wonderful." Which wasn't a very sexy kind of word, and yet it felt exactly right. Full of wonder: That was how Betty was after discovering she could experience all this with her best friend in the world. "You're crazy good at that. You know this, right?"

"A good time was promised. And delivered. Yeah?"

"Definitely yeah."

Daniel guided her hand back to him, and Betty began stroking again, feeling him harden yet more under her touch. Within only seconds, he was twisting away from her toward the bedside table. It was almost startling how fast he could rip the foil packet and roll the condom on; in her post-orgasmic daze, Betty wondered if there was a Guinness World Record for that kind of thing. If so, Daniel should go for it.

"Come here," she murmured, pulling him over her. Daniel kissed her again as he parted her thighs, and then he thrust inside her.

It felt so good – so much better than she'd remembered, being filled up so completely. The sweet burn of it made Betty moan against his shoulder, and the sound seemed to send a shudder through Daniel. His eyes were shut, his mouth partly open in an expression of complete abandon.

"Oh, my God," he breathed. "You're so – you're so – Betty – God, don't move."

"I want to."

"If you move, it's over."

Betty felt almost indecently powerful, seeing Daniel in thrall to her. For a few long seconds, they just kissed, warm and wet, joined together but still.

Then, having recovered himself, he thrust again, even deeper in, and that was more than Betty could bear; she started moving with him, making him stroke for stroke, and delighted in the tension throughout his body. She knew Daniel was fighting for enough control to stay inside her, and as much as she loved that, she wanted to see him lose that control.

I needed this, she thought. I needed this so much more than I ever knew. She wasn't sure what "this" was, and it hardly mattered, because she had it now; she wasn't broken apart any longer. Here, now, she was complete.

Daniel's hands found hers to press them back against the mattress, as if trying to hold her in place. But Betty bucked against him, giving him no power, forcing him to let go. He shouted out as his hands turned into fists and he plunged into her one last, deepest time; for a few long moments he quivered against her as rigid and eager as an arrow in a bow. Then Daniel breathed out, went still and collapsed atop her.

His mouth found hers right away, and they kissed – sloppy and sweet. "You're amazing," he said against her cheek.

"So are you."

"That wasn't nearly long enough."

"Good times promised. And delivered. Right?"

"Right." Daniel grinned at her, and she couldn't resist kissing him again.

He parted from her only long enough to deal with the condom, but in that moment Betty took stock of how she felt – which was amazing. Her pulse seemed to be thumping through every corner of her body, her entire skin highly sensitive; she was almost a little sore, but that was what lack of practice would do for you. For the first time in too long, she felt truly physically satisfied.

Daniel curled next to her, his head on her shoulder, and she sensed the change in his mood without any real sign of it. Somehow Betty knew, right then, that it had just occurred to him that he'd had sex with someone other than Molly – that he'd begun his life after her death, and no matter how good and right it was that he should move on, it had to make him feel a little sad, too. His heart still belonged to Molly, she thought; to her, it seemed possible that would never change. Without a word, she folded her arms around him and held him close for a long time.

Eventually, he said, "I'm glad I was with you." Daniel propped up on one arm and smiled gently down at her. "I'm glad this was with somebody I love."

"You made me feel really beautiful and special tonight. I needed that." They kissed tenderly. The gaze they shared afterward was so intense – so intimate – that Betty felt a sudden, absurd wave of shyness, but then Daniel started to grin.

"Like meeting someone famous," he quoted, shaking his head.

"It's true. Fame. Gossip. Several Page Six – column inches," Betty said, making him groan from the pun. "Your penis gets serious media coverage. Spencer and Heidi would kill for that much press."

Daniel fell back on the bed, laughing helplessly; she found herself giggling too. Although Betty was aware that they were both cracking up far beyond the humor of her actual joke, she thought they both needed it. Erasing the pain she'd felt earlier today – and the loneliness that had been dominating Daniel – that took more than sex. He also needed joy.

Come to think about it, she'd never really laughed like this with Matt. Not in bed, anyway. Betty hadn't even realized they were lacking that: one more reason not to be sorry they'd gone their separate ways.

As their laughter finally stilled, they kissed again, Daniel's body again shifting over hers, and temptation welled up – forcing Betty to say, "I should go back to my room soon."

"We just got started," Daniel said, which raised highly interesting questions about how long lovemaking usually lasted with him, but Betty knew she needed to maintain her resolve.

"If I stay here all night, I'll have to sneak out of your room in the morning. You know somebody will see us, and everybody at MODE will find out in about four nanoseconds, and then there's gossip and pornographic photo manips, and all that stuff we'd just as soon skip." She ran her fingers along the bulge of his bicep and sighed. "And if we start again, I'm going to end up staying here all night."

"Okay, okay," he surrendered with a sigh. "But, just – let me just hold you a little while longer."

"A few more minutes," Betty said, thinking the only risk she ran was Daniel pushing his luck. He didn't, though; he simply held her tightly.

The real danger, which she didn't realize until far too late, came in understanding how good it felt just to be held by her best friend.

to be continued -


	2. Chapter 2

The winter was uncommonly sharp that year, cold and blustery, with apparently no end of thick, wet snow to weigh everything down. All of New York seemed sodden, chilled to the bone.

Daniel tried to tell himself that this was why his mind kept returning to memories of the Bahamas, but he knew better.

He'd led an entirely sexless life since Molly's death – since some time before that, really, because her illness made her so fragile that the last weeks involved a lot more cuddling than making love. In the wake of losing her, Daniel hadn't wanted sex at all; at first, he'd wished for nothing more than the simple comfort of Molly sleeping by his side – he even dreamed about it, waking to find her gone. Those dreams had faded, but his sensual side had simply failed to return for the longest time. Daniel had, in his paranoia, even wondered if maybe he'd screwed around so much earlier in his life that he'd somehow – well, used it all up.

Not anymore, though.

It's like flipping a switch, he told himself. Sexually speaking, you were "off." Now you're "on." You just have to find someone else to be "on" with. Someone besides your best friend, who was just doing you a favor and was very clear about it being a one-time thing.

But his libido apparently either didn't speak English or refused to listen, because he absolutely could not stop thinking about Betty.

God, the way she moved with him. The softness of her body against his – the fullness of her breasts in his hands – remembering it made him crazy. Daniel had fallen into the guilty habit of thinking about her in the shower most mornings, getting himself off so that he had some chance of treating her like a normal adult human being by the time he saw her at MODE.

That was okay as far as it went. Not great, but okay, and a definite step up from the months where he'd thought his sex drive would never return. If that had been all there was to it, Daniel thought he could have handled himself just fine.

There was more to it, though – the sneaking suspicion that he hadn't done right by her.

Yeah, she'd enjoyed herself. Daniel felt sure of that much. But ever since he'd figured out, his freshman year of college, that girls talked to each other – he'd tried hard to be a good lover. Everything he experienced, he tried to improve on; it was, sadly, among the few subjects he'd dedicated concentrated study to in his life.

And what had he done for Betty? That hadn't even lasted half an hour. This was Betty – the friend who'd shown him more loyalty than any other, who had been with him in the darkest hours of his life, who deserved every good thing he could give her. Their night together had been – sweet, tender, satisfying. But he couldn't help thinking: Betty deserved something_ epic_.

Or so the rationalization went.

Still, he kept his silence. They were getting along great at the office, just like before, except for the very occasional knowing smile. Granted, they weren't spending as much time together away from the office as they had before, but that could just be the rush of preparing the spring issues. And this wasn't the time to push the matter. Given how worried Betty had been about their ability to handle a night as friends-with-benefits, Daniel meant to live up to their original bargain – and he probably would have from then on, but for a quip from Marc.

That afternoon, the deadly dull week between Christmas and New Year's, he, Betty and Marc all wound up taking the same elevator out of the building after work. "How is it that we all ran out of vacation days?" Betty said.

"How did you know that?" Daniel asked.

This won him an acerbic look from Marc. "Puh-leeze. Nobody works this week unless they're totally out of time off. But I'm surprised you didn't spot yourself a few extra personal days." Marc's eyes darted over toward Betty. "Or some additional time off for your lover."

Daniel froze as he watched Betty's eyes widen. _Oh holy shit he knows he knows how the fuck does he know were we really loud in our hotel room I think I remember yelling one time oh crap_

But then he processed it more fully: Marc's sarcastic (if accurate) habit of referring to Betty as Daniel's favorite, the casual way he dropped it, even the way he pronounced it "luv-AH" – it was a joke. Just a joke.

The realization sank into his mind just as it did Betty's; he saw her bite her lip and look away, lest they crack each other up laughing and make Marc realize he was on to something. As Betty struggled for composure, Daniel managed to say, "So, got any New Year's plans, Marc?"

He slumped against the side of the elevator, as if in despair. "Looks like I'm with Troy."

"Hey, you're dating again – that's good, right?"

"I guess?" Marc didn't look like he knew what to think. "But I feel like I went out looking for a hotel room for the night and ended up with a 30-year-mortgage."

"Look on the bright side," Daniel said. "Someone to kiss on New Year's Eve." His eyes and Betty's met just as he spoke the word_ kiss_.

Marc remained unenthused. "It's Troy's first year in New York. He wants to do Times Square."

Daniel and Betty both made faces. With sympathy, she said, "If you get through it with him once, you'll cure him of it for life."

"Not until I've been drooled on by Midwesterners." The doors opened and all three of them walked out into the lobby. Marc angled sharply toward the far doors, tossing his turquoise scarf over one shoulder as he said, "At least there's a chance of getting pawed by Mario Lopez."

They watched him go as they walked toward the nearer doors, and as soon as they were sure they wouldn't be overheard, both of them burst into the laughter they'd suppressed earlier. "Holy crap," Daniel said. "I thought we were _busted_."

"Me too. I'm so relieved." She put her hand to her chest as if to catch her breath, and she looked so pretty with her red gloves and white cap. Daniel found himself realizing how much he'd missed just hanging out with her the past three weeks.

So he said, "Hey – you want to grab some dinner? My treat." Betty hesitated, and he said, "Come on. We're friends. Sometimes we get something to eat. It's what we do, right?"

"Right. Of course." She relaxed, realizing that they were on the same page.

See? Daniel told himself. It's all good. Nothing's changed. "So, does that mean you're in? And you're going to let me pay?"

"No splurging," she said with a stern look over the red rims of her glasses, which meant only one thing to him: Yes.

No splurging didn't have to mean "nothing special," and happy inspiration led him to walk her across Midtown toward the theatre district, and a place he hadn't eaten in a few years. He kept glancing over as they got closer, waiting for the moment when she recognized their destination, and was rewarded with her face lighting up like the Winter Garden. "It's the karaoke pizza place!"

"No singing," he said, as sternly as she'd insisted on no splurging. "But they really did serve a good slice."

It was a cozy little joint, in its way – nothing fancy, but red-and-white checked tablecloths and a simple house Chianti had their charms. Over their pizza and wine, they talked about everything and anything, starting with how odd Wilhelmina had been acting since turning in Connor Owens, but branching out to include Claire's impulsive travel plans, her father's new girlfriend and whether she stood a chance against Elena, how all Taylor Swift's lyrics seemed like really good Facebook updates. Daniel realized, at one point, that his face was hurting from smiling so much; obviously his muscles needed more practice. Just as obviously, he'd needed to spend more time with Betty.

And even more obvious – this thing where he was going crazy from wanting her? That wasn't going away anytime soon. Being with her just made it stronger.

Still, Daniel kept his thoughts and his plans firmly in check until the subject finally turned to the current chaos in Hilda's love life.

"She's pregnant? How come you're only telling me this now?"

"Daniel, even Bobby doesn't know yet. You don't just go spilling that kind of information, you know?" She hesitated briefly. "We were actually both late that month. There was some panic at the house. But no worries. There's no more information to spill."

For a moment, Daniel felt like someone must feel after driving past a car accident – shocked but unsure whether to stop. "Wait. Betty – you know you could have told me, right?"

She smiled. "Of course I know that." It was as close as they'd come to talking about the fact that they'd made love; after weeks of silence, Daniel was surprised that it came easily to both of them. "And I would've come to you right away if there was anything to tell. Honestly, though, I wasn't that worried about it. We're all good." Betty took a deep breath as she shifted the subject to safer territory. "Hilda, though – she's got a lot to deal with."

"Why hasn't she told Bobby? If she's definitely having the baby. Or does she think she might get back together with Archie?"

"No, which is kind of a shame. Archie's a really nice guy," Betty said, sipping her beer. "Dad loves him; he'd fit in with our family. The situation with Bobby is a whole lot more fraught. I think Hilda doesn't know how he'd react, and she's nervous about it. But when she's with Bobby – I mean, you can tell there's real passion there, you know? When you find that with someone, it's not easy to walk away."

"No, it's not." The restaurant seemed a bit warmer all of a sudden.

"I'm probably over-thinking it. Hilda says that what happened with her and Bobby was a one-time thing. No repeats."

Before he could talk himself out of it, Daniel said, "Easier said than done."

Their eyes met. He waited for her to change the subject again; she didn't. The silence became both the question and the answer, and though Betty's gaze darted down toward the tablecloth, he could see the slight smile on her face.

Daniel leaned forward, unsure exactly what to say but eager to pursue this line of thought, when the karaoke leader yelled, "Number 17!"

Betty grinned. "That's us."

"I am so getting you back for this." More wickedly, he added, "One way or another."

"Only if you impress me with your singing," she said with a toss of her hair, the most flirtatious he'd ever seen Betty with anyone. They were both playing the game now, teasing each other with the idea of possibility. Maybe she was only joking with him. Maybe he was mostly joking with her.

Or maybe not. Just in case, he belted the hell out of his half of the lyrics. "Tender love is blind – it requires dedication – "

Betty's uneven soprano picked up the verse: "All this love we feel needs no conversation!"

Together they chimed in on "We ride it together – ah-hah. Makin' love with each other – ah-hah." Their eyes met, and he could tell Betty was about to lose it laughing, and even though he was too, he wondered if he was the first person to actually get turned on while singing this stupid song.

"Islands in the stream, that is what we are – "

After another glass of red wine each, they set out into the night. As soon as they were on the sidewalk, Daniel slipped his arm around Betty's shoulders, and she leaned into the half-embrace. But she said, "I thought tonight was about proving we could hang out like normal again."

"I know. I did too."

"We probably shouldn't." The tone of Betty's voice suggested she hoped he might talk her out of it.

As they walked past card tables piled high with cardboard top hats and glittery 2010 sunglasses, chilly wind reddening their cheeks, Daniel reasoned, "The main reason we hesitated last time was because we weren't positive we could handle it. But we have."

"We totally have," she agreed. "It hasn't been awkward at all."

"So. If we've proved we can be friends-with-benefits, and we're both – interested, one more night ought to be okay. Right?"

Betty looked up at him, white cap bright against her sleek dark hair, and he found himself vividly remembering what that hair felt like brushing against his bare chest. "I have to admit … we were really good together."

"Yeah." Daniel stopped walking to face her; one of his leather-gloved hands brushed a strand of hair from her cheek.

At the touch, she briefly closed her eyes, but before he could kiss her, she said, "I don't want to – create something too safe for you. Because you don't just want sex, Daniel. In the long term, you want love. You have to get back out there, sooner or later."

"I know that. I'm not suggesting we do this forever. In fact, I promise you right now: I won't ask you again. But I'm asking tonight." His voice dropped to only just more than a whisper. "I really want to be with you tonight."

"Come on." She took his hand and tugged him after her so firmly that he at first thought he'd been turned down – that this was an effort to distract him or change the subject. But then Daniel realized that Betty was leading him back toward his place.

They kissed the whole way up in the elevator. They kissed in front of his apartment door for so long that he ended up dropping the keys and not bothering to pick them up again for several minutes. But once he'd backed Betty against the wall and had her coat open, she whispered, "We either need to go inside or apologize to the neighbors."

"Hang on." Daniel stooped, grabbed the keys and got them into the apartment. Instead of pausing in the front room, they just kissed each other through the darkened room, shedding layers of clothing as they went, until he backed her onto the bed.

Just at the moment when he felt himself getting carried away, Betty said, "Shoes!"

He laughed as the two of them sat up again to do the one really awkward bit of undressing – unlacing shoes, slipping off socks. "I hate this part."

"You're supposed to be the expert at this. A lifetime of casual sex didn't teach you a good way to get rid of shoes?"

"Nope. Why do you think I went barefoot in the Bahamas?" The next time he kissed her, he could feel her smile against his lips.

Remembering how needlessly shy she'd been the first time, Daniel didn't go for any of the lights, but the bedroom here got a lot of illumination from the street. So he could finally enjoy seeing her curves – full breasts, shapely waist and, as he rolled her over to kiss her back, a seriously great ass. Daniel grabbed her hips firmly, holding her on the bed as he traced his tongue down the line of her backbone. When he reached the small of her back, he rolled her halfway over before grazing his teeth along the flesh at the side of her hip – a bite too gentle to hurt, but firm enough to make her gasp.

He brought his lips to her breasts, relishing the fact that he could fill his mouth with her, or run his tongue along the full curves beneath, or sense the weight as he caressed her with his hands. Though Daniel was not fool enough to try to say this out loud, knowing it wouldn't sound the way he meant it, it made sense to him that there would be more of Betty – more fullness, more weight, more curves – than with the twig-thin girls he'd used and thrown away for so many years. Betty had substance; she was real.

As she started to twist slightly beneath him – Betty had deliciously sensitive breasts, he realized – Daniel kept sucking at her as he pushed his hand between her legs. At first, he kept to gentle caresses, enjoying the way her body tensed against his. Then he pushed two fingers inside her; the heat and wetness he found waiting for him tested his resolve. It took all his willpower not to just grab her and take her, right then, that second.

But he used his willpower. Instead he stroked in and out of her, thumb making circles against her as Betty breathed faster and faster, cheeks flushing, back arching as she came closer to release.

At the last moment possible without being outright cruel, Daniel pulled his hand away.

Betty groaned. "Don't stop. Daniel, don't stop now."

"We wait," he whispered against her throat. "It's better if we wait."

"But I –"

"Trust me."

For the next hour, Daniel tested her. Tested himself. He went down on her, massaged her, kissed her, gently and roughly, urgently and lazily, keeping Betty on the brink of release but never, ever taking her over the edge. She laughed at him and swore at him and sometimes was completely beyond the ability to speak, but always, always trusting him.

He made sure she tormented him in turn. Betty went down on him for the first time, astonishingly skillful, but just as he felt himself nearing the brink, he pulled away, bringing her mouth to his instead. And when he finally entered her, pulling her leg over his hips so they could face each other side by side, he moved too slowly to get himself off, just enough to keep both of them suspended in the magnetic, dizzy haze of extended arousal.

When they were both slick with sweat and trembling from the exertion, Daniel pulled out of her, ignoring her whimper of protest. He slid off the bed to get his feet on the floor, then tugged Betty closer to him so he could push inside her again.

Betty invitingly arched her back; Daniel clutched her hips and stood, pulling her hips and lower back off the bed, with only her shoulders and head still resting on the mattress. The unusual angle made her gasp, but in a good way, and he smiled as he felt her wind her legs more firmly around him. As Daniel began thrusting again, hard and fast this time, he could see her excitement escalating by the second. The sight of Betty, his sweet innocent Betty, giving in to pure abandon – it was the hottest thing he'd ever seen.

Though he wasn't touching her directly, Betty must have been so near the brink that almost anything would push her over; within only a few minutes, she cried out – not a scream, but so close, and that was too much for his willpower to bear. Daniel pushed harder, faster, until his body told him it was inevitable – and then it was on him, turning the world inside out.

Daniel flopped down on the bed next to Betty, gasping for breath. She, too, was panting, but after a moment her fingers wound into his, and he squeezed gently.

"Oh, my God," she whispered.

"I saw him too."

"That was – amazing."

"Yeah."

"You're totally not allowed to get cocky about this, but – Daniel, that's the best sex I ever had. Like, in my whole life."

"Same here."

A moment of silence followed, before Betty said, "You don't have to exaggerate to spare my feelings. We have to be honest with each other."

"I am being honest. Jesus, Betty, I still can't uncross my eyes."

She started giggling, and Daniel spooned himself around her, utterly content. He kissed her hair and for a while they remained together without any need to speak, or move, or think.

Betty murmured, "If we stay like this, we'll fall asleep."

"Oh, no. We're falling asleep … _in a bed_. Somebody do something."

"I have to go to work tomorrow. You know. In that place we work in."

"Yeah, that place." Daniel drowsily kissed her shoulder. "You could run home to change in the morning, come in late. I won't tell the editor."

"We probably shouldn't."

"We already did."

"I mean – " Finally, she sighed. "Forget it. I'm not getting on the subway tonight."

So they slept in the same bed for the first time, snuggled around each other. But Daniel understood what Betty had meant the night before, and the next morning, he was on his best behavior. He didn't tackle her first thing after they awoke. While she tidied herself for the early-morning trip back to Queens, Daniel made her coffee and poured it in a go-mug. When they kissed goodbye at his door, he felt a pang at the thought that it was the last time – but he had heard what Betty said. She wanted him to move on. And he meant to; he really did.

As the days, and then the weeks, passed afterward, Daniel often found his thoughts going back to that night at his place – and no wonder, because he hadn't been exaggerating at all about it being the best sex of his life. He badly wanted to ask Betty for just one more night.

But he'd already asked her that. She'd given it to him. When he made his best friend a promise, he took it seriously. So Daniel knew, absolutely, that he would never ask Betty to go to bed with him again.

Dammit.


	3. Chapter 3

"I tried talking to Amanda about it," Betty said as she scraped pink and crimson ribbons of nail polish from the doorjamb, where Amanda had "tested" each shade. "She accused me of trying to rub it in. Then she said men were evil. Then she cried on my desk for a while until Marc brought her a delivery pizza. She ate the whole thing. That seemed to stabilize her."

"Poor Amanda." Daniel's voice echoed slightly off the tiles in her bathroom; he was in there trying to undo some of the damage Amanda and Marc had done during their brief, disastrous tenancy in Betty's former apartment.

Correction, she thought: As of today, again my current apartment. I'm back where I ought to be.

With new enthusiasm, she kept at her work as Daniel continued, "I know this might not be what you want to hear, exactly, but I think Amanda was serious about Matt."

The idea of being jealous about Matt Hartley already seemed like something Betty dimly remembered from a dream. "No, you're right. I mean, if she hadn't been, she wouldn't have stormed out of this apartment – excuse me, this 'den of taunting evil memories.' I thought they were happy together. But Matt – he was always kind of looking for the next thing, you know? I guess he's still wandering."

"To Africa, this time." Daniel stuck his head out of the bathroom door; a few tiny chips of plaster dotted his hair. "Is it wrong to wonder what would've happened if he'd asked Amanda to go with him to do charity work? Or to think that would've been hilarious?"

Betty couldn't help grinning. "I hope not. Or we're both headed straight to hell." Someone knocked on the door just inches from her face, which made her jump, but then she said, "Speaking of delivery food, dinner's here!"

"Let me get it." He came out, wallet already in hand, but Betty shook her head.

"I promised you dinner as payment for services rendered. Sit. Or if you want, open that bottle of wine. It ought to be cold by now." As he did what she asked, she paid for their delivery Chinese food – but all the while, she could see Daniel from the corner of her eye. That gray T-shirt he was wearing hugged his biceps, the long lines of his back, his slim waist: all the good stuff.

Well. Not ALL the good stuff. His tight faded jeans were hugging the rest.

And once she'd thought that, Betty had to ask herself whether she'd asked Daniel over tonight hoping that nothing sexual would happen between them – or hoping that it would.

Daniel had remained true to his promise; he hadn't asked her to come back to bed with him, hadn't even hinted at it. They'd spent time together at the office, went out to lunch, and attended occasional networking functions and designer bashes in the city, always as warm and affectionate as before – maybe even more so – but without him putting even one toe over the line she'd drawn.

Betty knew she ought to be glad about that. Relieved, even. Though she'd noticed he still wasn't dating again; he still hadn't moved on from Molly. She told herself that she hated to think of him being lonely. That the reason she sometimes regretted her absolute rejection of any future nights for them was that she was worried about him still being cut off from life and affection and joy.

And yet she also knew, beyond any denying, that she desperately wanted him to touch her again.

Why was it so hard for her to admit that to herself? It was just that the sex was so good, really, and so it wasn't totally shocking that she'd want to be with him again. Betty had been lonely and downcast when they first hooked up, or it never would have happened. That first night had been a wonderful release, a sweet moment of intimacy between friends. But the second night – that was what kept running though her mind every night when she tried to sleep. She hadn't known she could let go like that, or imagined how arousing it would be to see Daniel both in control and in her thrall.

Which was not where her brain needed to be, not while her GOOD FRIEND and BOSS was across the room, unpacking their Chinese food. Betty tried to pull herself together, and then she heard Daniel's voice:

"Your place or mine?"

"What?" She turned to stare at him, mouth slightly agape.

Daniel held out a carton. "Your snow peas or mine? I don't even remember what I ordered."

"Oh. Mine. You got the beef with broccoli." Her pulse racing, Betty put on her best smile and joined him at the table in the hopes dinner would get her head together.

It didn't.

"I guess it's kind of nice that Matt was still reading your blog," Daniel suggested, as he nabbed a bit of broccoli with his chopsticks.

"Yeah, but I had no idea he would read the stuff about Botswana and leave the country."

"Just for six months."

"Six months is, like, eternity in Amanda-years."

He studied her so carefully that it seemed almost like flirtation – certainly it made her breath quicken slightly as Daniel's eyes met hers and held them. However, he said only, "It's only six months in Betty-years."

Wrinkling her nose, Betty said, "Do you think I'm still hung up on Matt?"

"Not really." Daniel shrugged. "I don't know. I guess … well, I noticed you weren't seeing anybody else. That's all."

Here we go, Betty thought. This was a signal, a sign he was about to start flirting, as a way of leading them back into bed at last. She kept her eyes averted as she shrugged.

Which was when Daniel said – "Maybe I'll rehire Amanda as my assistant. It would take her mind off things."

"Huh?" She blinked. "But Marc's your assistant. You said he was doing a terrific job. Which, of course, he would. If he wasn't a terrific assistant, there's no way he would have survived two days with Wilhelmina, much less three years."

"The assistant-sharing thing isn't panning out. It's too much work for only one person, particularly when you figure in Wilhelmina's Botox injections." He ran his hand over his chin. "Besides, Marc keeps trying to get me to shave the beard."

"You should keep it. I like it." Was she flirting now? Maybe. At any rate, that would be suggestive enough to get Daniel to start flirting. Any second now.

"I know you do. I do too. Hey, is it okay if I put on the radio?"

"Um, sure." Betty watched, slightly dazed, as Daniel tuned her computer to an internet radio station playing classical music, which was pretty but not exactly a seduction soundtrack. That was when it hit her: Daniel really wasn't going to make a move. Not tonight. Not ever.

Before she could stop herself, Betty thought, I guess it's up to me.

Her eyes widened. Daniel, oblivious to her confusion, poured himself some more wine and took a seat on the couch; his dinner done, he seemed to be thinking of nothing more than relaxing before getting back to work. Her brain was more easily derailed.

Having a brain more easily derailed than Daniel's was mortifying enough, but Betty's main source of confusion struck a lot closer to home.

You can't do this, she told herself. Yeah, you just want to have really great sex again, and no other candidate has showed up. Daniel's still in a deeply vulnerable place. You shouldn't take advantage of his loneliness.

Another voice inside her answered back: He's getting better! Getting stronger! If he managed the first two nights okay, he can manage one more. You both can. You're adults. Mature, responsible adults. In his case, he is a mature responsible adult who just spread his arms across the back of your sofa, which makes his chest muscles look amazing, and oh God just ask him just ask him already because I can't be here with him like this and not touch him.

Slightly shaky, Betty rose from her chair to pour herself a little more wine too. Daniel was saying, "I keep wondering exactly why Marc and Amanda removed the top layer of tiles from your shower. But if I ask them, they'll tell me, and I think we might be better off not knowing."

"You're probably right."

"It's all taken care of now, though. Tiles all redone."

She couldn't help smiling; he looked so ridiculously proud of himself. "Since when do you know how to lay tile?"

"I went to a couple of classes at Home Depot with Molly. She wanted to change up the bathroom at our … at the apartment. We never got around to it, of course, but I still remember." Despite the slight catch in his voice when he'd nearly spoken of the apartment as something that still belonged to them both, Daniel's good mood appeared unshaken. But God, he still loved Molly. Why was it so hard to face a fact she knew so well? "It's harder work than it looked when the Home Depot guy was doing it, though."

"Thanks for giving it a try. Seriously, Daniel, I appreciate it." If she hit on him now, would it come across as her just trying to thank him for fixing her tiles? With sex? That would be awful.

"No problem. I know how badly you wanted this place back. Besides, it gives us an excuse to hang out." He shrugged his shoulders, a gesture that seemed incongruous until Betty realized he hadn't spread out his arms to show off his gorgeous chest; he'd done it because he was sore from his labors.

And THAT was an opportunity too good to resist.

"You okay?" Betty stepped closer to him, around the back of the sofa.

"Yeah, fine," he said, flexing his arms – and then wincing. "At least, mostly."

Her hand felt warm and slightly weak as she set her wineglass down. "Here. Let me." Betty rested her hands at the back of his neck, just where it tapered into his shoulders.

Daniel said nothing – didn't move, didn't even seem to breathe – until she kneaded her thumbs into the muscle. Then he groaned softly, a sound that awakened every memory she'd tried to hard to repress. Betty didn't just hear it; she felt it in her throat, in her belly, between her legs.

She kept making circles, pressing in against his shoulders, working every muscle in turn. At one point, as she swept up to the back of his neck again, her thumb went over the collar of his T-shirt to brush against his skin. Daniel's head drooped forward as he gave into the moment, and she could see enough of his face to know he'd shut his eyes. Neither of them spoke for a while.

The whole time, Betty kept wishing that Daniel would do something: reach up and take one of her hands in his, ask her to touch him somewhere else or perhaps all over, or maybe even turn around and kiss her. But he didn't. As much as he was obviously enjoying this backrub, he still wasn't going to make a move.

At this realization, Betty's nerve deserted her. The idea of Daniel not jumping at the mere suggestion of sex – well, it had never occurred to her. She patted his shoulders awkwardly. "Okay. There you go. That's better, huh?" Her chirpy tone made her want to wince; she couldn't have sounded less sexy if she'd started talking in a Bart Simpson voice. Time to return to her wineglass and at least drown a bit of her embarrassment.

As she stepped away, though, Daniel looked over his shoulder at her. After a couple of seconds, he said, "Um, Betty?"

"Yeah?" Was he going to make a move at last? Her heart was thumping, and she couldn't quite meet his eyes.

"When you asked me to come by and help out over here – well –" A tiny, uncertain smile appeared on his face. "Betty, is this a booty call?"

Oh, God. She felt the flush sweeping over her face almost before the embarrassment. Struggling for composure, Betty said, "So I guess subtlety isn't my strong suit. Though I kind of knew that already."

"I wish you'd told me before I did a whole row of tile!" But Daniel smiled at her as he rose from the sofa, in a way that melted away her shame, her resolve and quite possibly her bones. "Hey." His hands settled at her waist, one finger already hooked into her sash belt. The tone of his voice was soft like honey. "You know all you ever have to do is ask."

She framed his face with her hands, his beard soft against her palms, and brought him down to her for a kiss that lasted much longer than she would have expected. Her memories of him were sharper than she'd known, too; the scent of his skin was familiar to her. Warm, known, welcoming, needed –

"Are you sure?" she whispered against his cheek. "I meant what I said before – at least, mostly I did. We can't fall into the trap of relying on this."

"I'm sure," Daniel said. He wasn't exactly the most reliable gauge of responsible behavior, but right now, she was going with it.

Betty took his hands and drew him back toward her bed, the same one she'd redressed with her brand-new pink sheets. They half-sat, half-stumbled to fall on the edge of the mattress, and for a long time just remained tangled up, kissing wildly. Even making out with Daniel was more exciting than some of the sex she'd had before.

Not that she intended to stop at making out: When her breaths were coming too fast to keep kissing him deeply, Betty finally went for his T-shirt, lifting it up as he raised his arms to help her. God, Daniel had the most amazing chest – almost entirely smooth skin, firm pecs, developed shoulders, defined abs and biceps. Betty sighed, a sound of such comical satisfaction that both she and Daniel started to grin.

"I missed this," she said. "I missed you."

"Missed you too. I seriously thought – never mind."

Daniel kissed her, and she knew he meant to say I SERIOUSLY THOUGHT WE'D NEVER DO THIS AGAIN. She'd thought so too. From now on, whenever she remembered this connection between them, she couldn't write it off as something she'd done 'for Daniel.' This was for her.

As his hand slipped up the hem of her skirt to rest against her inner thigh, Betty decided she didn't care who asked who.

"Hey. That first night, in the Bahamas – you said you were only just figuring out what you really wanted. In bed, I mean." Daniel stretched out beside her on the bed, lazily kicking off his shoes. "Do you maybe want to tell me more about that?"

"You've pretty much figured it out." Betty pulled her sweater over her head, remembering only as she tossed it aside that, not long ago, she'd felt shy about undressing in front of him. That seemed so foreign to her now.

His eyes sparkled with mischief, or perhaps anticipation. "Be specific."

"I guess – well, before, most of my sex life had been more on the cuddly side. Not so much on the hot side."

Daniel frowned a little as he stroked one of her bare arms with his fingertips. "They took care of you, right?"

"Yeah. Totally. I've been lucky. But Walter – you know, he could be sweet, but he wasn't exactly imaginative, you know? Then Henry and I were counting down the end from the beginning. We played around some, but it was … playing. Trying stuff because we read about it, not because we really wanted it." She smiled fondly. "Which can be hilarious. But not exactly smoking hot."

"Henry," Daniel said darkly, clearly thinking of the ways she'd gotten hurt with her first real love. She once would've found this annoying; now she found his protectiveness endearing. So she snuggled closer to him on the bed, lifting her hips in a suggestion for him to take off her skirt. He got the hint.

As he drew the zipper down along the length of her hip, she murmured, "Matt wouldn't try anything much with me. He kept saying I was 'too good' for all the stuff he used to do with the girls he slept with while he was being irresponsible."

"That doesn't make any sense." Daniel pulled the skirt down her legs and tossed it toward the nearest chair. Now she wore only her underwear and the sash belt still tied around her waist. "What does that even mean? Why wouldn't you try anything your partner wanted? Unless it was, you know, seriously creepy."

"I think he wanted to be with me because he thought I was a 'good girl,' and in his brain, good girls stuck to the missionary position a lot. Even this massage oil I bought was wilder than he wanted us to be. The sex with him was – satisfying, I guess; it was just – quiet." Betty sighed. The old fear welled up in her, but for the first time, she dared to share it with someone else: "Sometimes I thought maybe he dated me because he wasn't that attracted to me."

"Huh?"

She curled against Daniel's side, and he embraced her. In his arms, she could say this old fear of hers out loud. "Maybe Matt was scared of his sex addiction. Maybe he thought the best way to get over it was to date someone – someone he wasn't as into having sex with."

"Hey." Daniel took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, bringing her face closer to his. "There's no way that's true. Because any guy who had the chance to be with you once would be hooked for life. Trust me. I know."

A warning bell sounded in her mind, but the concern was distant enough to ignore. "Maybe you bring it out in me."

"Do you still not get how incredible you are in bed?"

Was he just soothing her feelings? Or was the chemistry they had together really as unusual and memorable for the far-more-experienced Daniel as it was for her? Betty smiled against his chest and whispered, "Show me again."

"Okay – " There was a teasing note to his voice now. "Any chance you've still got that massage oil?"

"Oh! Yeah, it's in one of the first suitcases I brought over."

"This really WAS a booty call."

Betty shoved him back from her, but playfully, so that he rolled over on the bed chuckling. "It's just in my toiletry kit, in the occasional/long-term use bag."

"How do you make even organization seem adorable?" Daniel tugged at the ends of her sash belt, untying it in a way that made it seem as if he were unwrapping a present.

"It's a gift. Hang on."

She hopped off the bed and hurried to the suitcase in question. When she'd allowed herself to actually imagine making love with Daniel again, she'd always fixated on the wild abandon of their second night. But they could talk and be close and even laugh the whole time too, without it feeling any less hot. That was – a surprise. A nice surprise.

The little bottle of almond oil was still almost entirely full, still fragrant and soft to the touch as she poured a few drops on her fingers. Watching her, Daniel stripped off his jeans and boxers; the sight of him sitting naked on her bed, eagerly awaiting her, made Betty feel happy, powerful – and just as sexy as he'd claimed she was. She even felt daring enough to take off her bra and panties in – not really a striptease, but in a way he was meant to watch, and enjoy watching. Which, to judge by her view of his lap, he did.

She crawled onto the bed, making her way behind Daniel; finishing his back rub seemed like a better idea than ever. Betty quickly stowed her glasses on the bedside table, filled her palm with almond oil, then slid it along the line of his shoulders. He arched slightly, responding to the contact, as she ran her fingers up and down, spreading and heating the oil until his entire back glistened slightly, soft and supple to her touch. Now she could massage him deeply, working along the bulging muscles that spanned from his arms across his shoulder blades – down the length of his spine – all the way to the beginnings of the swell of his ass.

"Mmmm." Daniel leaned backwards far enough for her to twist around and kiss him.

She murmured, "Lie down for me."

Obediently, he stretched out on her bed, belly down. Betty had never gotten such a great look at his naked body before; he was even more beautiful, more perfectly proportioned, than she'd remembered. Another few drops of almond oil, and then she began caressing his ass, his thighs, his arms, every bit of him she could reach, going slow, taking her time. Though Daniel remained lying down, he responded to her every move. He was just letting her be in charge, almost as completely as he'd taken charge of her last time.

It felt amazing to be in charge of a man – especially this man – in bed.

Betty crawled over him, lowering herself so that the tips of her breasts brushed against his back; he moaned softly as she nuzzled the curve of his neck and whispered, "Turn over."

Daniel shifted beneath her, managing to roll without forcing her to move; now they were face to face, almost skin to skin. She could feel their body heat warming the few inches between them. Their bodies only touched where her breasts rested upon his chest and his erection nudged at her lower belly. Betty kissed him once, very softly, then poured a thin line of oil down the middle of his chest.

She straddled him, his cock snug between his abdomen and her thigh, as she began massaging his pectoral muscles and his arms. When she lifted each hand in turn, she took the time to work into the muscles of his palm, the base of his thumb, even each finger. As Betty finished with the second hand, she lowered it to rest on the upper curve of her breast.

Though Daniel had allowed her to take the lead entirely up until now, he immediately began caressing her – both breasts – and his oiled hands felt amazingly good against her skin. As one thumb circled her nipple, she shivered; in a low voice, he said, "Maybe it's your turn now."

"I'm not done with you yet." Betty scooted further down and poured a little more oil into her hands. But as she reached for his cock, Daniel suddenly grabbed her wrists to stop her.

"As much as I like this idea – you realize we can't. Oil and condoms: Even worse than oil and water."

"Oh, right." Long-ago lessons in sex ed, little heeded at the time because the prospect of romance seemed so remote, swam back into memory. Something else popped into memory too – far more urgent. "Did you bring anything?"

"A condom? No." Daniel propped up on his elbows, forehead furrowing in consternation. "You were the … booty caller. I thought I was coming over to fix your bathroom! It's not in your toiletry kit thing?"

"I threw them out – well – when they expired." So much for being the confident seductress. Betty groaned and leaned against Daniel, resting her head on his shoulder. "I'm sorry! I figured you'd have something."

"I haven't been with anyone but you in a long time," he said simply, and that soothed her far more than it should have. Or maybe the deep satisfaction spreading through her was because Daniel then kissed her and said, "Let's just pick up that massage where you left off."

Betty kissed him again before she sat up, poured yet more oil and finally took him between her hands. He was rock-hard, skin hot against hers. She kept her grip firm, only loose enough to allow her hands to move up and down. One fist she kept at the tip, working him in a quick, gentle rhythm; with the other she stroked, hoping it felt something like it would have if he could have been inside her.

Daniel moved with her, thrusting into her hands more and more so that she did less and less, taking her cues from him. His fingers tensed on the bed, almost as if he might clutch the mattress, and his expression was shifting from intense concentration toward exhilaration. He started muttering – swear words, her name, Jesus, God, her name again – and it was amazing being able to watch him lose control, being able to feel the pulse in his cock as he thrust even deeper and came.

She stroked him all the way through it, her fingers sticky, until Daniel took a shuddering breath that seemed to release the tension in his body. His head lolled, totally relaxed, but with one hand he drew her to lie by his side.

Did he think she was shy about THAT? Her problem wasn't being prudish; you'd think he'd know this much by now. So Betty began gently finger-painting along his abdomen before cleaning him up herself with a corner of the sheet.

"You give a great back rub," he murmured.

"Hope you do too."

"Oh, your turn is coming. Wait and see." Daniel propped up on one arm, still loose in the aftermath of orgasm but with a glint in his eye. "Where's that massage oil?"

Within seconds, he'd drizzled a line down the center of her chest, down to her belly, pooling a little in her navel. Then he drew a line in oil down one of her thighs, then the other. Daniel began making circles along her rib cage, only slowly allowing those circles to broaden until his fingers stroked the underside of her breasts. Betty arched up for him, and his slick, warm hands grasped her fully. Each stroke was different – sometimes his thumbs played with her nipples; sometimes he pressed in so that it almost hurt, in a good way; sometimes the touch was delicate, more of a tease. Betty stretched her hands overhead, grabbing hold of the headboard to hold herself steady; otherwise, she'd wriggle too much, and she wanted Daniel to be able to keep doing whatever he was doing.

Daniel had other ideas, though. His hands dipped lower, warming her belly, brushing her thighs, and then finally massaging her between her legs, fingers brushing oil in every swell and fold. She was already so turned on, so completely in the moment, that within only a few strokes, Betty could feel the energy building inside her, heating her up, rushing from the pit of her gut to the top of her head, until it burst.

As a moan escaped her lips, Betty sank back, limp. Daniel kissed her once just beneath her belly button, then murmured, "Turn over."

She did so, and was treated to a long, thorough backrub as afterplay. While Daniel kneaded the flesh at her lower back, she said, "How is not having sex with you better than sex with anybody else?"

"Wait – oh, okay, I got what you mean now. You wouldn't consider this sex? Felt like it to me."

"This is more playing around, right?"

"If this was all we'd ever done, and somebody asked me if we'd had sex, I'd say yes. I mean, I'd say no, because we're not telling people about this, but I'd be lying."

Betty thought about it as she glanced over her shoulder to see him, still working away on her backrub, oiled hands stroking either side of her spine. "We didn't do anything that had to involve birth control. So maybe that's no sex."

Daniel cocked an eyebrow at her. "That would mean Marc's a virgin. So I don't think that's right."

She started laughing, and they proceeded to have a ten-minute conversation about what sex was and wasn't, where lines could be drawn, how Clinton-Lewinsky drama made everybody ask that, so on and so forth, until Betty was having almost as much fun talking to Daniel as she was curling up naked with him in her bed. But only almost.

As they went on, they spoke more slowly, more drowsily. As he lay down next to her, Daniel said, "Anyway, if this is not having sex with you, I like not having sex with you." He leaned his forehead against hers. "But I think it's having sex with you. And I like that even more."

"Mmm." It was as much as she could say while kissing him. When their mouths parted, she whispered, "I should turn out some more of the lights. We're falling asleep."

"Oh, good." He spoke as if it were a bit of a surprise. Then she realized that, last time, she'd argued against a sleepover, but now that just seemed silly. It was nice to go to sleep with her head resting against Daniel's chest – so nice –

The lights burned on into the night.

The next morning, they overslept, and Daniel was due for brunch with his mother down in the Village; this meant that he dashed straight for the shower, and she was left to wonder whether it was a good or bad thing that they hadn't had sex/not had sex/whatever it was they'd done, all over again. Finally Betty realized it was stupid to worry too much about something that had already happened, and besides – they had more immediate problems to deal with. Problems that lived right down the hall.

Daniel himself said, as soon as he emerged from the shower clad only in her Lilo & Stitch bath towel, "So how do I get out of here without Amanda or Marc seeing me?"

"I've been thinking about it; I know what to do."

"What?"

"Get dressed first. When I make my move, you'll have to be quick."

He obediently put his clothes back on and grabbed his jacket as Betty went for her cellphone. Just as she was about to make the call, though, he cupped her chin in one hand. "Hey," he said softly. "Last night was incredible. I'm really glad you asked me over."

"I'm really glad you knew what I was up to." She couldn't resist smiling. "Otherwise I would've chickened out."

"Don't be so shy next time."

"Okay. Here we go." Betty brought up Amanda's number and hit the green bar. Two rings and – "Hey! Amanda! Sorry to wake you up so early on a Saturday, but I thought you and Marc would want to know. I was just at that little coffee cart down the block, and guess who was hanging out on the corner? Tim Gunn! I know, right? He'd still be there, because he was totally making out with this hot guy – he looked familiar, probably somebody from reality TV, you'd know better than I would – hello?" She looked down at the phone, which read DISCONNECTED.

From down the hall, they heard the door slam, and two pairs of footsteps thudding down the stairs at lightning speed. Marc's distant voice said, "I am SO filming this!"

Daniel grinned. "You're a genius."

"I have my moments. You'd better hurry."

"Okay." He kissed her goodbye, quickly but so gently that it reminded her of how delicate he could be in bed. "See you soon."

When he ducked into the hallway, Betty watched him go, then shut the door behind him. Only after Daniel was gone did she realize exactly what he'd said, and what it meant: Don't be so shy next time.

They'd always promised each other before that every time was the last time. Now Daniel assumed they'd make love again.

Betty thought that was a dangerous assumption to make, not least because she suspected he was right.


	4. Chapter 4

"I can't get over it," Wilhelmina said. "You remove a couple of strips of metal, and it's like Betty's been – Photoshopped."

Daniel couldn't take his eyes off Betty as she sat in the corner of the room, allowing her orthodontist to double-check her work, now that the million-dollar bra had been safely removed. "She's always been beautiful. All that got removed tonight were the blinds over our eyes."

Wilhelmina rolled her eyes at his sentimentality, but she said only, "I'm getting this brassiere to safety while the getting's good." She paused, and there was a moment of the feeling he'd increasingly recognized between them – something that was almost akin to friendship. "If you want to hitch a ride in my limo, you should know that a couple of models from the Ford agency are likely to come with. All I ask is that no outright groping occur until after I've left the vehicle."

"I'm staying for a while," he replied, meaning, until I can see Betty again. "But thanks for the offer." She shrugged and stalked off through the crowd, clutching the diamond-encrusted bra in her hands.

Daniel used his new freedom to wander closer to Betty, who was apparently done with braces forever. She gave her orthodontist a big hug, then rose from her chair, still beaming that incredible smile. When she saw him, the grin somehow became even bigger. "Daniel! There you are. I was hoping you hadn't left."

"Not going anywhere," he promised. Not until he'd suggested they get out of here together. Betty had been so shy about asking him last time, but she _had_ asked, which he thought gave him permission to ask again – though he hadn't tested this theory before now. Tonight, though, there was no way Daniel could walk away from her without at least trying for more. "Have I told you in the last five minutes how gorgeous you look?"

"Maybe not in the last five minutes." Betty looked up at him over the rims of her glasses. "I'm glad you're still here."

Something in the tone of her voice was very intriguing. Daniel moved a little closer. "Oh, yeah?"

"I was thinking – maybe – after this – we could celebrate." She looked so shy, with her lowered chin and one foot making circles against the floor, and yet the heat in her eyes wasn't shy at all.

Quietly, he said, "I would love that."

"Me too." Betty laid one hand on his forearm, a simple gesture they'd probably shared dozens of times, but now it was enough to send blood rushing all kinds of inconvenient places.

"This is pretty bold for you." He could feel the heat prickling along his skin like a fever. "I like it."

"Tonight I feel bold. Like I could jump from the Empire State Building and not get hurt."

"I think we can come up with something better to do than that."

"I bet you're right."

"You know, Wilhelmina's already left. That means the party is more or less over. Why don't we get out of here?"

"Let's." Her hand tightened around his arm, and Daniel had to suck in a breath – already he wanted her so badly. He saw her recognize what he was feeling, saw the arousal flush her cheeks, and hoped to God they managed to make it out of the party fully clothed.

They did. But he couldn't say the same for the elevator in his building.

"God, you're wild tonight," Daniel whispered against Betty's throat as he felt her loosening his tie, then pulling it off.

"I feel – confident. More than I ever did before." She pursed her lips before giving him a tantalizing smile: Good Lord, she'd only had that perfect grin for a few hours and already she was wielding it like an expert in the art of flirtation. "Ready to try all kinds of new things."

"Oh, yeah?" Daniel pushed her against the elevator wall again, nudging one knee between her thighs. "Your wish is my command."

The doors opened before "elevator sex" became the first new thing they tried. He took her by the hand and pulled her to his apartment, defter with the keys than he'd been the last time they were here. As he unlocked the door, he saw her take off her glasses and drop them in her purse. Who knew that was a hot move? But it was.

He shut the door behind them by shoving her against it, kissing her roughly as he slid the deadbolt through the lock. Close to her lips, Daniel whispered, "What's something you've never done that you want? Anything, Betty. Anything you want, I want to give it to you."

"Anything? Oh. Um – well – okay." She rested her hands on his shoulders, clearly incredibly turned on – but momentarily a bit uncertain. In a small, breathy voice, she whispered, "Bondage?"

If it had been possible for him to climax just from hearing her speak, that might have done it. The hard rush he felt made him half-dizzy; dammit, Betty was about to make him _swoon_. "Who – who would be getting tied up?"

"I've had fantasies both ways. Sometimes I think about – tying a guy to a chair – " As she spoke, her enthusiasm building, Daniel thought, God, she's giving me a hard-on that's going to last as long as I can remember her saying this. I'm never going to be able to leave the house again. "But sometimes I think about being the one who gives up control. It's all kind of hot, you know? And I always wanted to try. I also – you know, sometimes you read about different positions, more exotic stuff, and I've done almost none of them. Or having sex outside; I've never done that either. Ooh! Sex toys. Are those good? You seem like you might have sex toys."

Feeling slightly woozy, Daniel held up his hands in the time-out signal. "I'll do anything you'd enjoy, but – not even I can do all of this tonight."

"I know, silly. But you make me think about it." Betty's hands spread across his chest, clearly eager to feel his body beneath his shirt. Where had the shy girl he'd first made love to gone? In her place was a woman who wanted so much – everything – and made him want nothing more than to give it to her.

Daniel murmured, "I think we've created a monster."

"We just set it free." She simply slid her hands down his abdomen to circle his waist, tugging him closer. "I tell you what – surprise me."

He kissed her long and hard, exploring her mouth with his tongue. Though he'd gotten used to the braces, kissing her was even more fun without them – perhaps only because of Betty's newfound assurance. When they had to break for breath, he said, "Surprise, huh?"

"If you'd enjoy surprising me."

"Oh, yeah." And then maybe next time – by now Daniel believed devoutly there would be a next time – she would tie him to a chair. Anything he could do to make that happen, he would do gladly.

But tonight, he didn't want to delay or tease or play elaborate games. Tonight he wanted her in every single way he could have her, starting now.

He bent down to sweep her legs up so that he had her in his arms, and carried her to the bed. Betty laughed out loud in sheer joy. "Nobody ever did this, either."

"Anytime you want," he said, laying her down, and covering her with his body for yet another kiss.

They undressed each other almost frantically, his fingers tugging at the clasp of her bra even as she unfastened his belt. Betty got his boxers off while his shirt was still on, if unbuttoned, and he didn't feel like taking his hands off her long enough to work with the damn cufflinks. So he just kept it on, hanging off his shoulders, as Betty kissed her way down his belly and took him in her mouth. And oh, God, how had she gotten even better at this? How was that even possible? The swirl of her hot tongue around him made Daniel's blood rush faster, made his skin prickle with need and sweat. Within only a minute, he could feel himself nearing the brink, so he forced himself to pull away.

"Wait," he rasped. "Not yet."

"We have all night," she teased, and Daniel kissed her again, overcome by her abandon. "As many times as you want – any way you want – "

"Wait," Daniel repeated, fumbling to get the damned shirt off. He needed to grab a condom before he lost all capacity for rational thought.

As soon as he'd suited up, Daniel rose from the bed, grabbed Betty by the thighs and dragged her to the very edge of the mattress, her legs around him. He plunged into her, harder than he'd meant to, but she loved it, tilting her body to take him deeper inside. The smile of pure satisfaction on her face made him grin as he said, "Wrap your legs around me, tight." Once she had, Daniel scooped one arm under her and lifted her up so that he was standing, Betty hanging on to him.

"Ohhhh. I never – _Daniel_." Betty clutched his shoulders as he adjusted his grip on her, making sure not to drop his precious cargo. Her delight in this was clearly diminished slightly by nervousness, though, as she had to look down. "Can you hold me up?"

"Not as long as I'd like," he breathed, "but that's why we'll do this." With that, he turned and backed her against the wall.

Now he had her – pinned there by his body, warm and soft against him, her legs snug around his waist and the angle they shared completely satisfying. Daniel started thrusting, thumping her harder against the wall, but not too hard. Just enough to disturb the hell out of the neighbors. Though the sounds Betty was making – more like cries – were probably louder than the banging.

How was it possible to take her like an animal and still feel like she was the most precious, tender thing in the world? He didn't know. All Daniel knew was that he wished he could do this forever.

But there was no way to keep this going forever – or even much longer.

"Oh, Jesus, Betty," he managed to gasp. "I'm close."

"Not yet; not yet; please, Daniel, not yet –"

"Not yet," he promised. When he could go no farther, he pulled her away from the wall, still wrapped around him, and got them back onto the bed. Looking down at Betty's flushed face, Daniel said, "Tell me more about some of these positions you read about."

The rest of the evening was enjoyably – acrobatic. Most of what Betty suggested were things Daniel had done before but was eager to share with her: taking her from behind, or her lying on top of him, her back against his belly, while he used his hands on her hips to provide the rhythm they needed. One thing she wanted to try, which involved them standing up and her slinging one of her legs in the crook of his arm, turned out to be totally impossible given their height difference – possibly the only time in his life Daniel had regretted being tall. But they did a lot of laughing while they gave it a shot. Between positions, as they caught their breath, they would kiss and hold each other, or Daniel would go down on her, bringing her to climax slowly once, then quickly the next time.

He could only hold out so long, though. When he couldn't resist any longer, Daniel pushed Betty back on the bed and crawled over her. Just when she must have thought he was getting traditional on her, he reached toward the bedside table – where his tie had landed. Daniel pulled her arms over her head and wound the tie around them once, pausing briefly; the excited gasp she gave him told him to keep going.

So he pulled the tie a little tighter and wound it around the bedpost. Then Daniel entered her again, slightly rougher than before, not much – just enough to give her a taste. To let her see if she liked it.

She loved it. As Betty shuddered in exhilaration beneath him, Daniel went faster, a little rougher again; he couldn't bear to do much more than this to her, but nothing more was needed. She was already writhing with pleasure, and his own release was coming closer, closer again, the rush of blood in his ears like a freight train, until he shouted out longer and louder than he could ever remember doing before.

"You did it," she whispered as she quivered atop her. "You surprised me."

Daniel kissed the side of her neck. "Not as much as you surprise me." He somehow found the motor skills to untie her bonds; as soon as he did, her arms wrapped around him, and they held each other for a long time.

When he'd gathered himself together a little, he went to the kitchen and fixed them both glasses of water and even brought in some grapes in case Betty was hungry – which she was. They snuggled up together, sitting with their backs against the headboard, while she ate and Daniel eagerly awaited the strength to have sex with her again.

"Look at that smile," he said, chucking her gently under the chin.

Her grin only widened as she reached for another grape. "How could I help smiling after this?"

"You know what I mean. It's got to feel great to have all that stuff done with."

"It really does. A little sad, too, though."

"Sad?"

Betty shrugged. "Maybe it's the end of an era. I don't know. Like – it took me a little longer to ditch all the un-fun stuff of adolescence than it does for most people. And now I'm in … Phase Two. Or whatever." Her expression became somewhat wistful in the hazy light from the city outside. "I wish Mom could've seen this."

"I'm sure she always knew you were beautiful." Daniel put his arm around her. "But I wish too."

Betty rested her head on his shoulder and slid one leg half over his lap, twining them even closer. "It felt right to celebrate with you tonight."

"Because the sex is so great?"

She responded to the joke by mock-shoving him, not hard enough to push them even slightly apart. "Because you've been with me for so much of this … transformation. Whatever you want to call it. _And_ because the sex is so great. You're an amazing lover, Daniel."

"So are you." And it was true. Daniel had enjoyed really good sex with a somewhat staggering number of women, but there was nobody he'd felt as free with as he did with Betty.

Only Betty could make him crazy with lust and silly with laughter within the same few minutes. Only Betty made him feel this safe when he was this vulnerable. Only Betty could engage him in a fascinating conversation while they were still slick with each other's sweat. Only Betty made him feel so crazily protective while at the same time feeling protected by her. Nobody else had ever done this for him. Just her.

Daniel looked over at her, with her silky hair adorably rumpled, her full breasts sloped against his chest as she cuddled beside him, her fresh face pink with exertion and excitement, and that perfect, guileless, joyful smile. In that moment, the illusion that they were friends with benefits vanished, leaving behind only the truth:

He was in love with Betty.

He didn't say it out loud. A long life of sexual adventure had taught him to be suspect of confessions of love made during sex – especially his own. Though Daniel didn't doubt for one second the truth of what he felt, he didn't want Betty to doubt it either.

No, this wasn't the moment to tell her. This was the moment to show her.

"Daniel?" Betty cocked her head, her smile softening into a more curious expression. "You're staring at me."

"Because I can't get over how beautiful you are."

"You've been with more beautiful girls than me."

Daniel tangled his fingers in her hair as he shifted to face her. His voice low, he dared to say as much as he could tonight: "I don't want anyone but you."

Betty breathed in sharply, but she didn't correct him. Didn't move away.

He brushed his fingers along her arm, her thigh, her knee. Every part of her was new to him now, and precious. Daniel drew her closer and kissed her slowly, framing her face in his hands. This kiss was unlike any other they had shared because now he finally knew. How could he have been so stupid as not to guess before? The warmth they'd shared ever since that first night in the Bahamas – no, since before that, maybe since she'd stayed overnight with him when he first returned from Nepal – all this time, he'd been falling in love.

The intensity of the kiss sparked something in Betty – understanding, he hoped. Her eyes met his, and their gaze at that moment was somehow even more intimate than the sex they'd had before. Daniel willed her to know what he knew, to see that everything between them was changing … no, being revealed as what it always had been.

When they kissed again, almost tentative, she was trembling. Maybe they both were. Daniel felt as though this knowledge had stripped something away from him so that he was more naked, more vulnerable, with her than he ever had been.

Betty's hand went to his cock, already hard again for her. She reached to the bedside table for a foil packet, and within seconds, she was rolling the condom over him, turning it into a caress. Daniel kissed her more deeply, making it last; she responded by sliding one of her legs over his hips so that she straddled him on the bed.

Still sitting up – the better to stay close to her, the better to keep looking in her eyes – Daniel lowered her down so that they were joined again.

He moved slowly, gentle spirals that she matched, hands on his shoulders, her forehead against his. It was as though he breathed in as she breathed out, one cycle that tied them together. Daniel wrapped his arms around her and closed his eyes.

She whispered, "You make me feel beautiful."

"You are. You're the most incredible woman I've ever known."

They kissed again, even more tenderly than before, and soon Daniel was giving in to her, moving faster, shouting out his climax against her bare shoulder. For a few long moments, they clung to each other, face to face, and when their eyes met again, he thought there was no need to tell her. She knew. She had to know. Betty always understood, even before he did.

But she said nothing, even as he massaged her to her own orgasm, even as they cuddled down under the blankets together afterward with Daniel spooned behind her. Maybe it went beyond words. It felt like that to him. In the deepest peace he'd known in months – maybe ever – he buried his face in her thick hair and went to sleep.

He awoke around dawn to see her standing at the foot of the bed, zipping up her skirt. "Hey," he said groggily; she startled, but didn't speak. "Do you have an early appointment or something?"

"Oh. Hi. No. I just thought – we needed to talk, and I needed to be dressed for it."

"Why?" It would only slow them down, wouldn't it? But the warm happiness Daniel felt began to cool as he saw Betty's drawn, worried face. "What's wrong?"

"Daniel – some things you said last night – I know it was the heat of the moment, but – we need to be clear where we stand." She sat on the foot of his bed, hair still mussed and glasses still AWOL, but otherwise every bit as professional as she would have been in her office at MODE. "We are, aren't we?"

This wasn't where he'd thought they'd be this morning. In fact, they were nowhere near where he wanted them to be. You couldn't even see that place from here.

Bewildered and somewhat dazed, he wanted to lie – to say what she wanted to hear, or what she thought she wanted to hear. Or to act like she was making a big deal out of nothing. That would get them out of this faster than anything else, and he desperately wanted out of this moment. But this was Betty, and Daniel knew it was more important than ever to tell her the truth. Taking a deep breath, he said, "You mean, about us being … just friends."

Betty nodded.

"Then I'd have to say – no. I'm not clear on that anymore."

"... no?" She clearly hadn't expected him to go there.

To hell with the safe out. Daniel leaned closer to her as he spoke. "Last night, with you, I felt – I knew – there was something more between us than just friends helping each other out. Didn't you?"

"We always said – from the beginning, we said that we knew what this was, and we laid ground rules – "

"We broke all those rules, and to hell with what we said! By now, we know better, don't we? Come on, Betty. When we're together – yeah, the sex is great, but we _connect_. In every way. That's why I – one reason why – Betty, I'm falling in love with you."

Even before he'd begun speaking, he'd known this wasn't going well at all, but he hadn't been prepared to say the word_ love_ and see her flinch.

Betty looked away from him, and Daniel felt vaguely sick. Her voice was ragged when she said, "I knew you were too vulnerable for this. It was too soon – I never should have forgotten how badly you were hurting."

"This isn't about rebounding from Molly."

"I'm sure you don't think it is. But you need some perspective, Daniel. I should have given you the time you needed for that." Betty wiped at her cheeks, and he realized she was starting to cry. "Oh, God, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I thought I was being your friend, and I just – I've just hurt us both."

She doesn't love me, Daniel thought. I love her and it doesn't matter whether she believes that or not, because whatever I'm feeling, Betty doesn't feel it too.

"Oh," he said. There didn't seem to be much else to say.

"I have to go." Betty got to her feet and hurried to the doorway, but for a moment she paused there. "I'll – I'll use a personal day on Monday. To give us some space. We'll need it."

"Betty – " He wanted to tell her not to run off, to stay with him, to work this out, but what was there to work out? Daniel realized he was in danger of crying too. "Okay. Go."

She fled, and he sank back down into his bed, wondering how the hell he had gotten everything so wrong.

The sheets still smelled like her skin.


	5. Chapter 5

Betty dearly regretted taking that Monday off. It just extended the worst weekend of her life to three interminable days, most of which she spent sobbing. Her family, which had expected to have a post-orthodontia party, regretfully left her alone, with her father declaring that maybe she was having some weird psychological reaction to losing the braces.

Almost anything had the power to crush her broken spirit. The sight of the neat white row of tiles at the top of her shower reminded her of Daniel. Back issues of MODE reminded her of Daniel. The sunhat she'd worn in the Bahamas. Her pink sheets. A small bruise on her hip from when they'd last made love, only a couple of days before. She cried so often and so hard that she gave herself a crushing headache.

Worst of all was the knowledge that she had hurt him. His white, seasick face that last morning: Betty thought she'd never be able to erase that from her memory. She didn't deserve to have it erased. She deserved to remember what a crappy friend she could be, and how completely she could deceive herself.

By Sunday night, she'd already figured out what she had to do. Monday morning, instead of going in to MODE, she got started. It would be better, on Tuesday, to present it to Daniel as a fait accompli.

Tuesday morning, Betty almost tiptoed in to MODE, going as fast as she could to her own office. First off she sawed through her in-box – God, how it could pile up in just one day – and saw, as she'd expected, a note from Daniel. It read, in its entirety: _Come say hi this morning. It'll be less awkward._

He was trying so hard; it hurt her heart. She'd wanted to do this at day's end, or at least right before lunch, to give them both a break – but Daniel was right. Making him wait longer would only be cruel.

Heart leaden, Betty made her way through the tube, past Amanda (who was too busy texting to notice her) and into Daniel's office. "Hi," she said, as she shut the door behind her.

"Hi." Daniel had shaved his beard. It made him look even more vulnerable – or was that her belated realization that he'd only kept it so long because she said she'd liked it? "Thanks for coming by."

"Thanks for the note. Listen, I did a lot of thinking this weekend. It would be best if – best for both of us if I left MODE."

"What?" He half-stood behind his desk. "Betty, don't."

She held up a hand, forestalling any further argument. "I'm not stupid. With the job market the way it is, I'd be crazy to leave before I find something else. But as of yesterday – I'm looking. At all kinds of options … online, TV, anything."

"You don't have to go." Daniel stepped closer to her – just to the end of his desk, but it made her feel pursued. "I'm not going to be an ass about this. All right, so, I feel something you don't." That sentence had cost him, she could see, but he kept going: "That doesn't mean we can't work at the same magazine, not if we act like adults."

The headache was already back, making her forehead throb with suppressed tears. "I trust you, Daniel. But if I hang around here, I'm only going to make it worse for you. I already took the worst possible advantage of someone who trusted me; I can never undo that, no matter how much I wish I could. The least I owe you is a chance for a clean break."

"If you leave right now, we're not even going to end up friends." His eyes were as bloodshot as hers. "Jesus, Betty, don't tell me I'm not even going to get to keep you as a friend."

"I don't deserve a friend as good as you." She went out before he could say anything else. Amanda, thank God, was still texting.

The next days crawled by. Despite the thin job market, Betty got a couple of requests for interviews – for side gigs rather than full-time positions, but she knew those could lead to job offers if they went well. So there was a decent shot she would be out of MODE within a month or so.

And she definitely needed to be out of MODE. Just seeing Daniel walking by her in the Tube was torturous. They tried to avoid one another, but the offices weren't big enough for them to escape each other entirely. Worst of all were the countless times a day she started to forward him a link to something interesting, or send him a funny text, and then remember she couldn't talk to him any more.

He emailed her a couple of times about work stuff, though one of those emails – an offer to send her to London to cover the fashion week there – seemed vaguely like a bribe. Betty turned him down. She needed to stay put, to concentrate on helping Hilda with wedding planning and, above all, to keep looking for another job, one that would take her far away from Daniel.

I knew, Betty kept telling herself. I knew he wasn't over Molly yet. Why did I let this happen?

That Friday – a week after she and Daniel had made love for the last time – Betty hung around in her office until sundown, knowing that he'd be unlikely to stay late on a weekend. By the time she ventured out to use the restroom before leaving, the offices were all but deserted.

But the restroom wasn't.

"Betty," Claire said, never pausing from powdering her nose. Her tweed Chanel suit made her a vivid figure against all the white and orange. "There you are."

Of all people to run into. It was already too late to just dash into a stall and refuse to leave, ever, so Betty tried playing it cool. "Hi, Mrs. Meade."

Claire turned, and before she ever spoke, Betty realized: She knows.

"You talked to Daniel."

"In a manner of speaking. I noticed him moping, offered to take him to Balthazar as a treat, and when he said he didn't feel like it, I told him I knew something was up." Surprisingly, Claire didn't look angry. Her smile was dry, but her eyes were gentle. "After that, I didn't really get a word in edgewise. So let's say I listened to Daniel."

Betty could just see him at his desk as he confessed everything to his mother – expression downcast, sticking his jaw out in the way that he thought made him look calm and casual but actually revealed how uncertain he was; the image made her throat feel tight. "I'm glad somebody knows. No – I'm glad it's you. He needs someone to take care of him." That had always been her job, before she proved herself so unworthy of it.

"Look. I'm aware that what's happened between you two is none of my business," Claire said. "Furthermore, I understand your current plans to leave MODE are entirely because you think you have my son's best interests at heart."

That was better than the blame Betty had expected and felt she deserved. "I wish it were different."

Claire smiled slightly. "I expect you do."

"What do you mean?"

"I'll only say this, and then I'll go back to minding my own business. And let's be clear – right now, I'm not speaking as Daniel's mother. I'm speaking to you as one woman to another." She laid one hand on Betty's shoulder. "No matter how much you care about Daniel, or how sincerely you're trying to shield him from being hurt – nobody runs that far, that fast, to protect someone else." Claire stepped away from Betty to the door of the bathroom before she finished: "We only run like that to protect ourselves."

Then she left Betty alone with her thoughts.

The rest of that evening, Betty remained restless. She didn't want to go back to her apartment, with its memories of Daniel lying next to her, stroking her oil-soft skin. Taking the train out to Queens would either result in listening to tons of wedding chatter, which Betty didn't feel up to, or her father realizing something was seriously wrong and interrogating her. In fact, both of those things could happen at once. So no Queens. Instead she set her phone to silent and window-shopped for hours, dining on some halal food from one of the Sixth Avenue carts.

When she got home, she took a long bath (resolutely avoiding looking at the top row of tiles) before turning, at last, to her phone. There were the texts she expected: One from Hilda, wondering where she was; another from Justin, who had just seen the April MODE cover and seriously wanted to know what they could have been thinking, because the model had, like, no neck. Was he the only person who had learned from Tyra's wisdom on Top Model?

There was also an email she hadn't expected – from Daniel.

_Okay, I remember how you reacted when we went back to the karaoke pizza place – just from that, I know, that night back when we first hung out – it means as much to you as it did to me. So what we said on the bridge is pretty much sacred, right? Well, we agreed one night we'd meet back there in the middle of the night. So – tonight. 2 a.m. I'll be waiting._

Betty knew she didn't have to go. She could text him back and tell him not to do it, and she knew he'd take that as a final answer. Also, she knew a last-ditch effort when she saw one; this was Daniel's one big pitch. Nothing would follow it but more of the same awkward silence, the same irrevocable drifting apart.

Yet, since talking to Claire, Betty'd been forced to admit she was trying to hide from telling Daniel the full truth about why she had to leave. After what she'd done to him, she owed him that much, at least. It would make their parting so much messier, but in the long run, maybe – if she knew she'd been totally honest with Daniel – someday Betty might not feel like scum any longer.

But she doubted it.

Betty dressed for the March late-night chill, not for a rendezvous: blue jeans, a hot pink sweater concealed under her plaid peacoat, comfy shoes in case she lost her nerve and decided to walk home – or in case Daniel gave her what she deserved and just left her out there on the Brooklyn Bridge to freeze her ass off.

However, as she stepped out of the cab and started walking across, she realized she could already see Daniel; despite the distance, the darkness of the night and his black coat, his outline was clear. So far away, it might possibly have been someone else mad enough to stand out on the bridge at 2 a.m. in March, but Betty knew better.

He obviously recognized her almost as quickly, but he simply waited, looking out at the city, until she was almost at his side. Only then did Daniel turn to her and smile – an expression so trusting that she wanted to die inside.

"You came," he said. "I knew you would."

"Bridge. Sacred. You nailed it." Betty hugged herself against the wind, chewing on her lower lip.

"Hear me out, okay?" When she nodded, Daniel continued. "I'm not going to lie and say I'm not hurting, or that I don't wish things between us could be – what I want them to be. But aside from all that – Betty, you're the best friend I've ever had. Whatever I have to do, whatever I have to get over, to keep you as a friend, I'm going to do. However much time it takes, I'll keep at it. You're worth working for."

Tears stung her eyes; every word he spoke made Betty feel worse.

"I love you, Betty. I love you enough to let you go, if that's what I have to do. All I need from you is a promise that you'll give me the chance to rebuild our friendship."

"You're not in love with me." Betty wiped roughly at her cheeks with the back of her hand. This was going to be even harder than she'd thought. "When we hooked up, you were in a fragile place. You hadn't slept with anybody else since Molly's death. A – rebound is natural. But rebounds are pretty much always illusions."

"I told you, you're not my rebound. How could you think that?"

"We hooked up so you could find out if you could still have sex! How is that not a rebound?" Her voice was getting higher, more shrill; she hated the sound of it, and yet she couldn't calm herself.

Daniel's hands closed over the railing, as though he wanted to shake it in frustration. "I hate the idea that if I'd hooked up with some blonde in the Bahamas, I'd actually have a better chance with you now." When he looked at her again, his eyes were so gentle and wounded that she screwed up her courage to say the rest.

"I can't stay at MODE," Betty began. Her voice quavered, thick with tears. "You deserve to know why."

"We're coming back to this 'rebound' thing. But okay. Tell me."

She had to say this right. If she said it the wrong way, she would give him false hope. "From the beginning, I knew this could happen. I knew you could get confused. But I spent so much time worrying about you, I never stopped and asked myself if – if I could get confused too."

Daniel's eyes widened. "Are you saying – " Oh, no, he looked happy. She'd botched it. "Betty, if you're confused, and I'm confused, then neither of us is confused." He reviewed what he'd just said and frowned. "Wait. That came out wrong. But if you feel – even a fraction of what I'm feeling, oh, God, don't walk away from me now."

"I have to walk away! You're saying all these things I want to believe so badly, and I know you think they're true, but if I let us go down that road – Daniel, I know right now it feels like nothing would be worse than this, but it would be so much worse."

She'd fallen into the trap that final night they spent together. When Daniel's demeanor had changed – when he'd told her she was the only one he wanted and began making love to her so tenderly – the spell had settled over her completely. If she hadn't fallen in love with him before that moment, she did then, and the joy she'd felt as they kissed each other afterward was like nothing else she'd ever known.

Then the next morning, she had awakened by his side in bed to remember that this had been Molly's bed. Molly's apartment. Molly's husband. Betty had finally remembered everything she knew to be true that first night they hooked up, but she'd allowed herself to forget in the months since. It had hurt her so much she'd felt almost sick with anguish … even with Daniel still sleeping naked by her side.

If she took advantage of Daniel's delusion, of his vulnerability, she'd buy herself a few weeks of happiness. Maybe even a few months. But when the rebound ended, the split would be beyond anything she could take.

Daniel shook his head in apparent disbelief. "Why can't you believe I'm really in love with you?"

"You can't be in love with me when you're still in love with Molly!"

He stood there, silent for so long that she thought he'd glimpsed the truth and was already in shock at his own mistake. But then Daniel said, "I'll always love Molly. That doesn't mean I can't fall in love with you."

"You're fooling yourself."

"No, I'm not. Think about it, Betty – your dad's in love with Elena, right? Do you think that means he doesn't still love your mom?"

That was impossible, of course. Betty had never doubted her father's enduring love for her mother, even when he and Elena were canoodling in every corner of the house. She shook her head, trying to clear it. "That's – it's not the same, Daniel."

"It's exactly the same." He stepped closer to her, for the first time bringing them within each other's personal space, close enough to remind her vividly of the nights they'd spent together.

So she stepped backward. "It took Dad years to get over losing my mother."

"Your father was married to her for something like twenty years and had two children with her, so no wonder. And besides – maybe he didn't get lucky enough to meet someone special until then." Daniel kept smiling at her; he just didn't get it. "In my case, you were right here the whole time."

Hope tugged at her, begging her to believe him, but she couldn't. She wouldn't. "You're only – confused – "

"Stop saying that! Betty, you were one of the most important people in my life for years before I even met Molly. How could you think I'd ever confuse what I feel for you because of what I felt for her?" Once again, he stepped closer; this time, she felt frozen in place, unable to move, unable to do anything but stare up at him through the tears that blurred her vision. "We have our own history. I mean, think about it – we're _here_, aren't we?"

And she lost it. Completely. The sobs spilled out of her, embarrassingly beyond her ability to control, and all Betty could do was cover her face with one hand as she hugged the other around her waist. Daniel's arms went around her, pulling her into his embrace, and the scent and warmth and nearness of him was both what she was trying to run from and what she needed most.

As she cried against his coat, Daniel murmured, "I love that you came to your first Halloween at MODE wearing a butterfly costume. I love that you made me and Alexis and Mom have it out on the bumper cars. I love remembering that time you visited me in the hospital and brought me your bunny just in case I needed company."

"We were friends – "

"Doesn't mean I loved you any less, does it?" He hugged her almost fiercely, as if the wind whipping around them might blow her away. "I love – the courage that let you keep coming back into the magazine every day back when all of us were treating you like shit. I love the fact that you're simultaneously this … playful little girl and the most mature, compassionate woman I know. I love how you make that prim face when you're angry. God, I love pink and plaid and anything else that's ever touched your body."

Betty's arms went around him. She still didn't want to let herself believe, but she couldn't stop listening to Daniel's voice.

His voice cracked as he said, "I spent this whole week trying to talk myself out of being in love with you. I figured – if it was just a rebound, and I could tell you I understood that, then maybe everything would be okay. Maybe we could be friends again. But no matter how long and how hard I tried, I couldn't do it. I know, Betty. I know as surely as I've ever known anything. I love you."

She broke again, this time taking his face in her hands and pulling him down to her. Betty didn't know if she was making the worst mistake of her life or the best decision ever; she only knew she couldn't withstand this. She couldn't go one moment longer without him. Their mouths met in a fierce, ragged kiss. It felt like victory and surrender at once.

When it was over, he pulled her even closer, his face against her cheek. "I thought I'd never kiss you again."

"I love you too." Tears still streamed down her cheeks as she confessed. "I don't know how this is going to end, but – I love you so much."

The smile that spread across Daniel's face held enough hope for them both. "Come on. Let's go."

Daniel flagged the taxi that took them back to her place. In the back seat of the cab, she curled into his side, welcoming the warmth of his arm around her like a blanket. Neither of them spoke; Daniel, for his part, seemed content to lean his head against hers, and every once in a while to kiss her forehead.

Finally, as they trudged up the final flight of steps to her apartment, Daniel said, "You look exhausted."

"I've hardly slept this whole week."

"Me either. It's been awful." Daniel's hand stroked her cheek. "Let's get inside."

Neither of them bothered turning on any lights in her apartment. Betty took his hand in hers and led him around the sofa, around the laundry basket she'd just ignored in her depression, back to her bed.

They undressed each other gently, without urgency; though Daniel kept planting soft kisses on her cheeks and her shoulders, he took things no further. She knew they weren't going to make love tonight. After the wretched week they'd both had, and the emotional wringer they'd gone through, they were nearly at the end of their endurance. But they needed to be close. To have each other near.

Maybe then she could believe this was really happening for them both.

When she lay in bed in her panties, Daniel stripped down to his boxers and climbed in beside her. Almost as soon as his arm stretched across her body, Betty leaned her head against his chest. He whispered, "I missed you so much."

"I missed you too." She slid her hand across his belly, relishing the warmth of his skin, the rise and fall of his breath. "When I first knew you – the reason I stuck with you after those first couple of weeks – it was because I saw that beneath all the money and the girls and the stupid stuff, you had this … incredibly kind heart. The deeper I saw you, the more I saw how generous and loving you really were. That's why it hurt so much, thinking that I'd used you." Betty looked up at him. "That's also why I love you."

He kissed her hair. "Say it again."

"I love you."

Daniel sighed, contented, and Betty felt the last of her tension leave her body as she closed her eyes. Within seconds, she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Betty awoke first. She opened her eyes to see Daniel still sound asleep next to her, his hand slung over her hip. For a few long moments she listened only to the relative silence surrounding her: the distant clanging of the antiquated pipes in her building, muted traffic sounds from the street outside, the soft in-and-out of Daniel's breathing.

The last time she'd awakened beside him had been terrible, a moment when her own worst fears came crashing down on them both. Now, though – well, she still wasn't sure what to believe. But she no longer refused to hope that this man she loved might truly love her back.

She covered his hand with hers, meaning it only as a caress, but Daniel stirred, shifting on the mattress and turning his hand so that their fingers intertwined. "Morning."

"Good morning."

He rolled over, framing her shoulders with his elbows, so that they were face to face. "Can I say I love you?"

Hope, Betty reminded herself. Until the two of you find the truth, you're going to hope. "Yeah. And I love you."

They kissed, long and sweet. She could feel him hardening against her thigh, and the warmth and nearness of his body seemed to be melting away any resistance she might have felt. But when their lips parted, Daniel looked down at her more thoughtfully than lustfully. "You're still not sure."

Weighing her answer before she spoke, Betty finally said, "I don't think this is going to be as easy for us as you think it is. But – I don't think it's as impossible as I was pretending it was." With an uneven smile, she continued, "Thanks for not letting me give up so quickly."

Daniel remained silent for a few moments, obviously deep in consideration. Then he shifted to her side, so that they lay facing each other. "Let's start with breakfast."

"Breakfast?" Was this going to be some double entendre? Or was it the name of some sexual technique she hadn't heard of yet?

"I'll get dressed, run down the block and buy us doughnuts and coffee from the cart down the block. You know the one. Tim Gunn's love shack."

"Oh, right." She couldn't resist a smile.

"And then we'll just spend the day … hanging out. Doing whatever we feel like."

She made a small gesture that took in the bed, and their presence together in it, as she teased, "I thought we were doing what we felt like."

"Yeah, but – Betty, let's start over. We kind of skipped a lot of important parts, you know? The, I don't know, call it the courtship phase."

"Courtship? That's an old-fashioned word, coming from you." But she knew she was beaming at him.

"Call it whatever you want. Dating. Hanging out. Wooing."

"Woo," Betty repeated, just because it was fun to say.

"Woo," Daniel said, in exactly the same way. "We'll go back to the beginning. Do it the way we probably should have all along, with me asking you out. Maybe going zero to 60 was part of our problem, you know? Maybe we just need to slow down for a little while. Give our heads time to catch up."

That – made sense. It was mature, and reasonable, and proof in and of itself how much Daniel had changed, not only since she'd met him, but even since he'd fallen for Molly a year and a half ago. Betty felt hope rising within her as she realized that what they were doing was new for both of them. Something that belonged to them alone.

"We'll catch up," she agreed. They kissed again, warm and gentle – but no more. Betty figured she knew where Daniel was going next. "And – as for sex – you were thinking we'd wait a while?"

"I guess," he said, so downcast and yet determined that he reminded her of a dogged little boy. She bit her lip to keep from laughing as he said, with resignation, "I'm going to miss making love to you, but it's not forever. Hopefully not even for long. Just until – until you know where we are. Does that sound right?"

"Yeah, it does." Not exactly ideal, but right. "I should mention something now."

Daniel tensed. "What's that?"

"I still think I should leave MODE, soon. You're my boss, Daniel. I know we haven't had a strictly professional relationship in a long time, but it's going to be different from here on." She sighed. "Besides, I never meant to work at a fashion magazine forever. Maybe I started on this job search for the wrong reasons, but I think moving on is still the best plan. For me and for us."

From his frown, she could tell he didn't like that idea, but that he saw the sense of it. Slowly, he nodded. "Okay. Anything else I ought to know?"

"Yeah." Betty gave him her best pout. "I miss the beard."

With a grin, Daniel promised, "Shaving stops today."

"And everything else starts today." It really felt like a new beginning.

"Speaking of which, we've got breakfast covered, but would you have lunch with me this afternoon? Wherever you want."

The grin spreading across her face must have been as brilliant as the happiness she felt on the inside, because Daniel's eyes lit up even before she said, "I'd love to."

"It's a date?"

"It's a date."

END


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